Awakening
by Scuttlest
Summary: For so long, she had been trapped in the ink of shadow. Now she awakes, responding to a soul's cry for help, clutching a white stone in her hand. FE11.


**Due to computer troubles, my 'Origin of The Prince of Light' has to be put on a small hatius. Don't want to start a chapter over from scratch when it's already 40% complete, just on a CPU being repaired, and thus can't currently be accessed.**

**Locked on a laptop, I wrote this up out of boredom.**

**This one-shot nominally focuses on Nagi, from chapter 24x of Shadow Dragon.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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><p>Vague, indefinable blackness stretches further then the eye can see. An inky mass that consumed all around it. Sheets of shadows that blanketed ones vision no matter where one looked. There is not even a speck of light here, no strand of light to chase away this absolute darkness.<p>

It was more then just devoid of light. A literal, malevolent darkness that did not exist in the plane of existence that most call 'normal' gripped this realm. Another realm, a realm where nothing seemed to take on permanent, physical form.

There was nothing clearly defined in this realm, nor was there any form of life natural to it. The realm was devoid of life, save one being. Just one being that hovered, curled, sleeping, unmoving. It was a living being, but it seemed almost unnatural.

Just a few hours in this utter blackness would be enough to rattle the nerves of the strongest of hearts, and drive the weaker in spirit to utter insanity. Yet this one being was simply sleeping, its face expressionless. It had grown accustomed to this darkness, but it did not enjoy the engulfing shadows, nor did it find peace in them. The darkness was a cage, and its bars unbreakable… from the inside.

The caged being was undoubtedly a woman, though their seemed to be something inhuman about her. She drew no breath as she slept in a void of pure nothing that seemed to stretch on forever. There might not have even been breathable air in this darkness.

She slept there, curled up. As motionless as a statue, slowly spinning through the air. How long had she been here? Centuries, at least. Yet she could not have known, she had taken to this sleep long ago. The only thing she knew was small bits. Little words that were imbedded into her mind.

Were these words some form of directive another had given her, or perhaps bits and pieces of true memories? There was no telling. She simply heard these fragmented memories play over and over in her head.

_The wielder must have… sword…_

_Gotoh… Gotoh… is…_

_Dolhr. Stop…_

She didn't understand. Not on the rational level, at least. Yet she understood on the instinctual level. There was something that she had to do. Some part of her unconscious cried out for the chance to perform these deeds some presence bade her to do, but those cries were taken away in the nothingness that surrounded her. No one was here to listen to her cries, she was alone. Asleep, and alone.

This miserable cycle had continued for as long as her mind could remember. Fatigue and exhaustion setting in as the words were heard in her mind over and over again. There was no real, physical voice talking to her, it was something in her mind…

Had she even had a life before this existence? She couldn't say, she couldn't even think enough to ask the question. Most of her thoughts were against her will.

_You… last hope…_

_Dolhr… overwhelming power…_

_Gotoh…_

Dolhr. Gotoh. Those were the only names that appeared in the words, which she believed to be memories, that assailed her, forcing her to acknowledge them against her will.

Dolhr. Somehow, a part of her knew, whoever or whatever Dolhr was, it was something that should not attain the slightest sliver of power.

Gotoh. What was Gotoh? The name echoed in her mind over and over, but she understood nothing. She knew nothing. Gotoh. Ally or enemy? A person or the name of a group? Her mind struggled, but simply hearing these words exhausted her. Her mind always felt so… exhausted. Never in this strange cycle had she been able to think of other things. It had been this way for centuries. Unchanging, unflinching, a cycle she might never escape from.

She had little will to muster to try and escape from this cycle. She couldn't even think of escaping. Her physical form was motionless, and her thoughts had… limited freedom. She seemed almost a pawn to the voice that resonated in her head.

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><p><em>Soon.<em>

A word she had never heard before. For a moment what little parts of her mind that did move paused at the sound of this mysterious word.

_Soon. Awaken. Time…_

Her soul cried out, asking for an explanation, forming the argument that her immobile mouth and exhausted mind could not conjure. She cried, the feeling gripping her was utterly foreign. She could almost understand what she was feeling, but could not determine exactly what it was. Hope? Anxiousness? Maybe fear? She was so used to the same old messages, that she was reacting peculiarly to these new words. Desperately, she cried out for some sort of clarification.

Her cries were answered with another, different cry.

_Sword. I need… sword._

Sword? She seemed to react to this voice as if she had been waiting for it all this time. This voice was that of a soul crying, speaking the heartfelt request that the body could not say. That the mind didn't think to speak. The soul spoke the most honest and passionate words, even as the rest of the body might remain ignorant of them.

_Fal-_

Her mind began to form a word she didn't even recognize, but then her thoughts were cut off, drowned out by a louder noise. The sound of metal biting through armor and striking on soft flesh, combined with horrid death cries. She grew… afraid? Sounds she had never heard before, and they were horrific. Had she have been able to move, she would have instinctively shrank away from what she was hearing. These sounds grew in pitch, louder, stronger, the fighting was growing more fierce. The sound of magic bursts ripping through soldiers, hollow screams that were growing louder.

She wanted the sounds to stop their screams and ripples. No more metal striking, no more sounds of spells coming into existence. Perhaps the woman wanted to scream, or simply twist her face in horror. Yet her lips didn't even twitch, there was nothing she could do in this infinite nothingness she was trapped in. Her exhausting memories that always assailed her were a mercy compared to these sounds.

The sounds continued, seconds moved to minutes, then flowed to a full hour, and she felt every bone-shattering, flesh-tearing, and blood-spurting sound produced in that hour. Until finally, with the death-cry of a dragon who, himself, seemed filled with magic, all noise ceased. She heard no sounds. No noise. Not even the voice of her memories was in her mind.

Silence. She wasn't sure if she had ever known it before. Yet before she could wonder about this strange new quietness, she felt herself being pulled. A tug that originated in her chest was pulling her…

Forward? Down? Up? She wasn't sure of the direction she was being tugged in, but it wasn't too long before a flood of new sensations was upon her.

What was tugging her? It seemed almost as if the force of the earlier cries, asking for help, had seized her and had begun to drag her through this dark realm. And out of it.

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><p>She was no longer curled up, hovering in the air. She was laying on her back on a stone slab. The location she was in had changed completely. Without opening her eyes she knew that she was no longer in the black void.<p>

First and foremost was a strange coldness upon her back, then a soft, but cold wind brushing her face. The warmth of movement touched her, and she felt her fingers gently curling on the rigid, rough stone. A rush of feeling went into her, things her mind didn't understand, things her body didn't know. She grew confused by these unrecognized feelings.

_Help. Help. Need… _the cry she had heard earlier began to voice itself once more. Pleading for assistance against… something.

Her eyes, which had been sealed shut for a time that seemed forever, suddenly snapped open. She was staring at a ceiling that she seemed to recognize, despite her mind having no memories from before the blackness she had grown accustomed to.

Slowly, and almost against her will, she began to rise. Her confusion at what was happening seemed to intermingle with a sense of tiredness as she woke from her long sleep. Her skin tingled as her soft clothing moved with her. She rose to a sitting position, then felt something unfamiliar fall onto her back. She turned her head, only to find that what had fallen on her was merely her long hair. Taking a deep breath, perhaps her first breath in centuries, she turned back to the front.

"…woman?"

She blinked at the word. It had the same voice as the soul that had cried for aid, for help and for a sword. Raising her head, she found two men near her. One young, very young. the other much older then the young one. Yet they… in comparison to her, and her years in that black void, they were both like toddlers. She knew.

The younger approached her carefully, cautiously. As if she was some unknown but dangerous object, or maybe some beast that could lunge at him at any second. He tilted his head in confusion, but did not seem hostile. She turned to him, and this simple movement seemed enough to unnerve him.

"Could she be the master Gotoh spoke of?" The boy wondered aloud as he continued to regard her, speaking as if she couldn't hear him. He didn't seem to be violent nor did he look ready to attack, but he was tense nonetheless. He carried himself like a person who seemed familiar with battle, and those familiar with battle did not disregard their danger instinct.

She stared back at the boy. Her mouth, which she hadn't manually moved in eons, maybe hadn't manually moved ever, began to slowly, clumsily, form words.

"…who are you?" She spoke, somehow seeming confused to be speaking at all. She stared at the boy with eyes that seemed lost and seeking direction.

The boy seemed to be on guard, but nonetheless identified himself. "I am Marth, prince of Altea." Marth spoke, then turned to the other man in the room. "That is Malledus, a tactician of Altea."

"Marth… Malledus…" she repeated the names as if they held some significance to her. Truly, they did not.

"Who are you?" Marth inquired with a polite tone. With a mouth hanging open in shock, she stared back at Marth as if the question was offensive to her. Her mind suddenly churned, looking for an answer to his question… and then the answer came to her.

She didn't know how, much there was that seemed confusing to her, yet her mind offered a name.

"Nagi." She spoke, then blinked, looking as if she didn't know where the name had come from.

"Nagi…" Marth relaxed a little, some form of calming realization seemed to hit him. "Gotoh sent us here to find you."

"Gotoh?" She could recall the name, it was… in the fragments. She tried to listen for her memories to be heard in her mind once more, but there was nothing. No echoing words resonating through her. She made an effort to claw through her mind, looking for the small words, but the strands of words once so constant in her mind were gone. Only a residue was left. "I remember that name, but… from where?"

Marth studied her expression carefully, "Your memory is gone?"

"I…" Nagi continued her search within her mind, but there was nothing to find, there were only pieces from which nothing could be attained. "I do not know. I… am not sure if I ever had any… true memories."

Marth fell silent as Nagi continued her futile quest in her mind, but after a few final seconds of searching, she turned to the prince. "I do know… one thing. Your soul, called to me. Woke me… from the void I was in."

Marth's eyes widened, and for a moment he looked like he might have been about to deny the claim. Yet confusion swept across his face, and he had no logic or argument he could use to rebut her statement. "I… didn't do it on… purpose?"

"You wanted… help." Nagi elaborated, and Marth seemed to be taken aback. Yes, he was here because he was seeking help, and his soul had told Nagi this fact. The fact that he had, somehow, told her without actually meaning to discomforted him. "Needed, begged for, my help. Help… and a blade…" Nagi's head bowed down, and it was then that she noticed her hands wrapped tightly around an object. The hilt of a sword.

"Falchion!" Marth yelled as he caught sight of the sword Nagi was holding. A sacred sword, the divine blade, the treasure of Altea. This girl who seemed to have little to no memories had woken up clutching the sword's hilt. "Where… did you get that?"

Nagi simply stared at the blade in utter confusion. There was something oddly familiar about the sword… almost as if it was a part of her. She did not want to let go of the sword, but some force was telling her to let this boy take it.

"I… do not know." She said honestly. "But… you need it. As well as… me. My powers…"

Marth seemed taken aback. "Your… powers?"

Nagi's eyes fell to her lap. Resting on her legs was a gem. White and perfectly round, and an overwhelming raw power sealed within. Her hand reached down and curled around the strange stone, and the pulse of holy power coursed through her body. "My powers. I think… I feel… there is something I have left… incomplete. I must finish that task. I must…" Slowly, she began to stand up, getting off the slab she was sitting on and standing on the floor. Her legs seemed unaccustomed to supporting any weight. They wavered, but did not give way as she walked.

Her walk was wobbly, but she managed to reach Marth, putting her hands on his shoulders to maintain her balance. Her legs were slowly gaining strength, her hands fell off of Marth's shoulders as a balanced equilibrium set in.

"Take me… with you… there is a fight… I must fight…"

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><p>Right outside Dolhr Keep. Inside the 'real world', so far away from the darkness Nagi had been confined in before. Nagi had been told that Dolhr was the name of a nation, and until recently had nearly the entirety of the continent in its grip. It was a crumbling empire, but it still held great power. It had to be crushed now, else it would regroup and threaten the whole of the continent again.<p>

After speaking with Marth, she had disappeared from the strange altar the two had been in. She had reappeared in the real world alongside Marth.

Nagi… understood. She had been awakened for the purpose of fighting this Dolhr, and its leader. Dolhr, the thing that should not attain power. Should not.

She held the white stone firmly in her hand, and almost gawked at the sights around her. Her past, what she could remember, was nothing but a blackness and the words in her head, words she couldn't even recall anymore. Now she was in an area filled with light and color.

It was not to say that it was pleasant. The land of Dolhr was undeniably brutal. The trees were dying, what pools of water she saw seemed filthy and disgusting. The wind seemed lifeless, wailing as it moved through the air to push into her cheek. Corpses… were everywhere. Dolhrian humans, with the remains of… dragons, strewn around.

There were others here. Allies of Marth. Many of their eyes watched her curiously, but not hostilely. A few eyes, like the ones belonging to an archer and a pair of bald knights, did regard her skeptically and unfavorably. But as of yet, she had done nothing to warrant any action taken against her.

One of those gathered here approached her.

"Um, hello?" It was a small girl, and one dressed somewhat like Nagi. She tilted her head curiously. "Who are you?"

"Nagi." She responded, getting down on her knees to be more level with the girl. An odd sense of nostalgia was hitting her at the sight of this young girl. Like she had met her before. It was… strange. Then Nagi noticed that the girl was holding a stone, almost… no, _completely_ identical to Nagi's own.

"And… you're name?" Nagi might not have asked the question before, but something about this odd sense of familiarity regarding the girl, and the girl's stone, compelled her to ask.

"Tiki." She smiled at Nagi, then motioned to her white-colored stone. "I'm a Manakete, and this is my Divinestone. It's the only one left in the world." A Manakete, the name for the dragons who had assumed human form, their draconic forms sealed inside their Dragonstones. In general, only Firestones and Magestones still existed in any large quantity. Tiki had a Divinestone, which only a Divine Dragon could use. The little Divine Dragon had a beaming smile, but that smile faded away as Nagi suddenly revealed a second Divinestone in her hands. Tiki gasped, but Nagi's expression remained neutral.

"Where… did you-" Tiki began speaking as her mouth hung open.

"I… do not know." Nagi said. Tiki approached Nagi's Divinestone and stared directly at it, her face reflected on the jewel. The Divinestone, like Tiki's, was roughly fist-sized, a shiny white gem that housed the power of the ancient Divine Dragons. Many of the stones had been… exhausted, long ago, reduced to withered and decayed husks. They no longer had the white splendor, but were instead a rotten brown. Tiki's Divinestone, and Nagi's own mysterious Divinestone, were likely the only Divinestones that still had their power left in existence.

"Are you a Manakete too, Naggy?" Tiki asked, wide-eyed with curiosity and confusion. Nagi didn't seem to notice the nickname, and merely nodded. Nagi was a Manakete, she knew that much. "And you're another Divine Dragon?"

"Yes." Nagi said. "There… are few of us left, aren't there?"

"I thought I was the only one." Tiki said, "That's what everyone told me, at least." For a moment, Tiki had a strangely lonely expression on her face.

Nagi leaned in slightly and laid a comforting hand on Tiki's head. It was an odd, but caring gesture that Nagi offered, and it broke Tiki's sudden forlorn face. The hand slid down through Tiki's green hair and rested on her cheek. There was little that Nagi honestly remembered, but there was something nostalgic about this girl before her. She couldn't place it but, yes, she had known Tiki before. Some part of her had recognized the little Divine Dragon. It was… agonizing, to know that memories were hanging just out of reach.

"Um… oh…" Tiki wasn't sure of how to react at Nagi's hand lingering on her cheek. She might have wanted Nagi to stop, but found the hand to be somehow soothing. "U-um… Naggy?"

"You said you're name was… Tiki…" Nagi said, closing her eyes as she sat across from Tiki. She seemed somehow drawn to the younger Manakete, and felt a yearning to watch over her. It was an instinctual feeling, one that Nagi didn't quite understand.

"Tiki. Do you… have memories from before you awoke?"

"Ah…" Tiki tripped in her thoughts. "Yes, I remember traveling with Ban-Ban before Gharnef put me to sleep. Ban-Ban told me all about the world, and the nations, and Anri, and Medeus, and-"

"Vile." Nagi said in a hushed voice. Her face tightened as the name 'Medeus' registered. Words came out of her mouth reflexively. "Medeus is a vile being. I can… remember, tales of his… methods, and how those who proudly served him never… met pleasant ends." Nagi took in a deep breath, she sounded confused, as if she didn't know what she was saying. "The fate… of those who aid him is… cold… and painful. He is a monster… no matter what he says to justify himself. He must be… he must be stopped… as soon as… possible."

Tiki stared wide-eyed at Nagi. "You only just woke up Naggy. How do you know that? Someone had to explain it all to me. I didn't know a whole lot when Ban-Ban first woke me up."

Nagi looked to the side, then back at Tiki, but didn't answer her question. Instead, she withdrew her hand from Tiki's face and patted her on the head. A long moment of silence ensued, and Tiki knew that she would receive no answer. Tiki had been standing, but now sat down cross-legged in front of Nagi. For a moment, they stared at each other.

Unbeknownst to the two, they were being watched. Xane, from a distance, examined the two. More Nagi then Tiki.

_Hoo, to think that she's awake. Been awhile, eh?_

Xane smirked, neither of the two women aware of his eyes on them. With his arms crossed, he leaned against one of Dolhr's dying trees. The feathers tied to his bandanna swayed in the wind. With the sun behind him, he was a silhouette in the distance.

_Forgot everything but ol' Medeus. Can't really blame her, I guess. Just a few days in that place will do a nice number on someone's mind. And she's been in there since Medeus got beat the last time._

Nagi continued to gaze at Tiki's face, as if she believed that her memories would return if she stared long enough. Xane knew full well that it wouldn't work. Great care had been taken to see to it that she would remember Medeus, and that he had to be stopped. Nothing else had been prioritized. Though some small bits and pieces might have managed to stick in her mind, most of it had been carved up.

_And if you hadn't been one of Naga's favorites, you wouldn't have even gotten that much. You'd be in the same boat as everyone else who lost their Divinestones._

Xane nodded his head down. The only Divinestones left in the world were right here. The others having been exhausted long ago, and their Divine Dragon owners left permanently trapped in human form. Xane… just _might_ have known a few surviving Divine Dragons besides these two.

Nagi and Tiki were both sitting down, seemingly looking quite comfortable in each others presence. The moment wouldn't be lasting too much longer, Xane knew. Within the hour, their Divinestones would be tested against the greatest soldiers of Dolhr. And Medeus.

Dolhr Keep was a menacing structure in the distance. Nagi raised her eyes up off Tiki for a moment and looked at the malevolent building. Her skin crawled with nostalgic familiarity, and her hand's grip on her Divinestone tightened.

"We'll be… fighting soon. Fighting… again." Nagi said, her other hand coming up, also gripping the Divinestone. The holy power sealed inside channeled weakly into her. At her command, this power would channel much more strongly. At her command, her flesh would transcend human appearance and become the scales of a Divine Dragon.

"Soon." She said, though Tiki didn't seem to notice. "Soon. It all… ends soon… Medeus." Nagi looked at Dolhr Keep again. "Has to be… stopped… his reign… ends… again…"

Nagi shuddered. She felt herself being called to do this, to defeat Medeus, almost as if she had done it before. She hadn't. She knew. But… she had fought before. Fought against Dolhr, and Medeus. She… somehow, she just knew.

There was nothing more to think about. With Tiki in front of her, she simply closed her eyes, and prepared for what was to come.

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><p><strong>The implication I feel that was intended was that Nagi is a reincarnation of Naga. The Japanese version, supposedly, makes this far more blatant. With her introduction event labeled 'Revived Divine Dragon King' in the Event Recap, and being titled 'Divine Dragon King's Reincarnation' in the character endings.<strong>

**For this story, she isn't Naga's reincarnation. In my own headcanon, I like to think of her as having formally been one of Naga's vassals. A servant. (Though, when I first began writing this story, the idea I had in my mind was for her to be Tiki's elder sister, I changed that part-way through) She predates Tiki's birth, and, also in my headcanon, was sealed away as a sort of 'last resort' in case of Medeus' return, and she was sealed off not long after Tiki was born.**

**I personally think the whole 'reincarnation' thing is somewhat challenged by the fact that Medeus apperantly recognizes her, and I can only assume he was recognizing her physical human form, and not recognizing her soul or whatever. Since the Manaketes don't appear to be able to do anything like that.**

**Judging by how she talks at the beginning of the Endgame if you recruited her, talking slowly and constantly using ellipses seems to be how she's meant to be presented. Something of a 'deer in headlights' sort of woman whose mind doesn't always seem to be 100% focused on what's happening around her.**

**Oh, and while Marth didn't have the Falchion, Tiki was apperantly alive. Go fig.**

**Last note: The archer and the balding knights who are 'skeptical' would refer to Tomas, Dolph, and Macellan.**

**Please review.**


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